The holidays

Well, the holidays are here again. I thought well and hard a couple months ago as the holidays approached. What would I do to not engage in any past traditions. I had to figure out how I would not be hurt again. Last year’s holidays were terribly painful as my kids and I tried to make everything exactly as it had always been…Christmas breakfast at our house with Grandma and Grandpa. Only there was no Dad. It was so painful for all of us that I swore this year would be different.

It started with Thanksgiving. There was a good plan in place. I went away with my thirteen and eighteen year olds to Plimoth Plantation in Massachusetts, for dinner, followed by Black Friday shopping in Boston. No traditions for us. This was the first time I had ever gone out to dinner on a holiday, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. We actually had a great time (albeit with the thorns in our sides) and weren’t really reminded of our past traditions at all. Just as planned.

I felt sorry for those who were left behind, but I needed to take care of me for a change. They all were with their father and my son in law’s side of the family. It was strange for them, but they made it work. It’s not what they are used to and they didn’t stay long.

Another Thanksgiving down.

My ex has the youngest, 13, for Christmas this year. Can’t we just skip over the holiday, except for Mass?

I can think about Jesus’ birth; I just can’t think of traditions our family has created over the years. And, I won’t spend the holiday alone, even once. I refuse to.

Maybe I’ll fly to Florida for a couple days. I’m sure someone will want to go with me. Someone else who’s suddenly been forced to be separated from their own family on the holiday. I don’t want to be gone, but when I am I don’t have to worry about the decisions everyone makes.

For instance, when everyone is over to my ex’s house, including my in laws, who I still love very much and am very close to, it’s just too much to handle. The feelings of sadness that wash over me nearly take me out. So what do I do instead? Leave. I don’t want to know what everyone is doing and with me out of the picture altogether, no decisions need to be made with regards to splitting up their time with me. I just figure it’s easier this way.

I’m sure the kids (remember, they are all adults except for my 13 year old) don’t like when I’m gone, but I don’t have another way to deal with this right now.

I don’t know. Maybe Christmas morning will be OK. I think. If I’m here, a few of us girls will wake up together and enjoy our stockings, and slowly come alive while still in our warm jammies, munching on creamy Christmas chocolates as we try to be happy as we open the rest of our gifts.

All this if I’m not gone, of course.

And if I’m here? What happens next? Off they go because Dad wants to see them, too. Then I’m alone. Can’t do it.